


unexpected but always there

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Fear of Flying, Kid Fic, Mates, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brett decides to finally return home to Beacon Hills for Christmas, and meets someone very unexpected on the plane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unexpected but always there

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Prompt #163 - Unexpected at fullmoon_ficlet on Livejournal. It’s been a while, and I really wanted to write this week, and I wanted to go for something a little different. Maybe something unexpected. :) And I think this may be one of my new OT3s. Also, this is absolutely unedited and probably full of typos. Sorry!

Brett’s not a big fan of flying, but he promised his sister and Satomi that he’d be home for Christmas this year. He moved to New York for college, then stayed for graduate school, and it’s somehow been a good four years since he managed to get on a plane to go home. Lori’s been to visit him a few times, but that’s not the same as being back with his pack, small as it is. Besides, Satomi insisted, and he can’t resist his alpha’s order.

It just bothers Brett when his feet get more than a tree’s height above the ground. In his opinion, wolves weren’t really meant to fly.

He’s managed to get a direct flight from the city to San Francisco, and he’ll stop there long enough to get some rest before driving out to Beacon Hills. It doesn’t thrill him that he’s on a single several hour long flight, but he figured it was an improvement over having to take off and land multiple times, not to mention potentially changing planes.

And if there are scratches in the arm rest from his claws, no one will notice until after the flight ends.

There’s a tap on his foot, and he automatically twists, trying to get his long legs out of the aisle. But it’s not a cabin attendant, but rather a small girl, maybe three years old, her dark hair pulled back in braids, wide eyes set into a heart-shaped face. She tilts her head and flashes her eyes at him, then smiles brightly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Small children are _not_ Brett’s forte. Random werewolves that seem to be running amok without their parents involved aren’t a good thing in general. He leans out, cranes his head around the seat, but doesn’t spot a frantic parent.

“Daddy’s asleep.” She holds out her arms, and when he doesn’t reach for her, she stamps one small foot. “Pick me up,” she demands, her lower lip sticking out.

“You don’t even know me,” Brett counters. “Didn’t your parents teach you about strangers?”

“They taught me about pack.” Her eyes flash from brown to gold and back again one more time. “Pick me up.”

There’s a woman across the aisle watching them curiously, and he wonders exactly how much she’s heard and what she’s thinking. But as he reaches for the little girl and she climbs into his lap, the woman looks away and tucks a headphone into her ear.

Apparently she hasn’t heard enough to worry her.

“I’m Gracie,” the girl tells him.

“I’m Brett.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Brett.” Gracie’s words have a soft lisp, but they are clearer than he’d expect for her age. “I’m four, but I’m small, but that’s okay because Daddy is a peanut, or that’s what my uncle says. That Daddy is peanut sized, and Mommy isn’t very tall either. I have Mommy’s eyes and Daddy’s stubborn.”

“And which one growls?” he asks in a low voice, and Gracie giggles like he’s told a wonderful joke.

“Both of them. But Daddy’s asleep right now and Mommy’s sitting in a different place and I was going to go find her, but then I smelled you and I decided that since you’re awake I’d stay with you.” She reaches up and pats his cheek. “Don’t worry, Mr. Brett, we’re going to be friends. Do you have any cards?”

Brett doesn’t have any cards, but when he presses the attendant call button, the guy who responds offers to bring them a deck, and next thing he knows, he’s playing several rounds of Go Fish with a child who cheats like she was born in a gambling den. Her fingers are deft and quick, and when he calls her on it, she simply says, “My uncle says that cheating is a good skill to have because it means I know how to keep my heart even and my fingers quick. My other uncle says it’s a terrible habit and he should stop teaching me. Daddy just rolls his eyes and gives up. Mommy laughs, and pretends she doesn’t know it’s happening. I think that’s because she’s going to give me a little brother and she doesn’t want Daddy thinking that he’ll be a hellion like me.”

“You’re very self-aware for a four year old,” Brett points out.

Gracie looks up at him and shakes her head somberly. “Someone has to be aware of me. It’s hard to be the baby of the pack.”

“When your brother’s born, you won’t be the baby any more.” Brett shuffles the cards, deals them out and places the rest in the center of the small table. Gracie takes her time arranging her cards, small pudgy fingers holding them awkwardly but as tightly as she can manage.

“Do you have any fours?” she asks, and sighs when he shakes his head, making a big show of taking a fresh card from the deck and tucking it into her hand.

It’s a long flight, and Brett thinks that Gracie’s parents have to be very tired. If her mom’s heavily pregnant, she’s probably been asleep since the plane taxied onto the runway, but it surprises him that her dad hasn’t come to find the cub yet. Gracie, on the other hand, is absolutely unfussed about spending time with Brett, taking over the empty middle seat of his row and climbing over his sleeping seatmate so she can see out the window. They eat together, with Gracie handing over the tomatoes from her salad shortly before she decides to give Brett her entire salad altogether, then she steals his cookie when he makes the mistake of looking around to see if he can spot her father.

There are more than twenty men snoring in the cabin of the plane; Brett has no idea which one might belong to Gracie.

They settle in for the in flight movie after lunch, Gracie curled against his side, her eyelids drooping. Her scent is a strange comfort to Brett while they are in the air, grounding him in ways he didn’t expect, almost as if he were flying with Lori. When her eyes finally close and soft snuffling snores reach his ears, his own eyes start to droop as well.

He’s never slept on a plane before, but he almost does.

 _Almost_.

He wakes up to the sound of a low snarl, too low for human ears but perfectly loud to a wary werewolf. He hears the sharp bark of _Gracie!_ and she shoots awake, tumbling from the chair and onto the floor, crawling out into the aisle. She jumps up and down, waving one hand, and yells, “I’m all right, Daddy! I’m right here with Mr. Brett.”

The snarl cuts off abruptly. “With _who_?” her father asks, and Brett swears he recognizes the voice, but it couldn’t be, not here. Not flying from the east coast to the west.

He leans up, pushes himself to standing, ducking so he doesn’t hit his head on the overhead bins. And he spots him, on the other side of the plane, in an aisle seat, and wearing an expression like thunder. That level of anger and worry is so familiar it feels like home.

“Liam.” The word falls like a breath, punched from his chest. Brett’s fingers curl around the top of the seat in front of him, and he has to force himself to relax before claws slip out and punch through the fabric above a sleeping man’s head.

“I call him Daddy,” Gracie says. “I told you. _Pack_.”

“Not pack.” Brett’s voice is tight, his gaze fixed on where Liam is walking to the back of the plane and crossing over into Brett’s aisle so he can come forward. Liam’s smile is wide and easy now, his arms opening before he gets there. He pulls Brett in, and Brett inhales, holding the scent inside himself, eyes closed because _fuck_ , he wasn’t ready for this.

It’s too much.

“Yes, _pack_ ,” Gracie insists. She reaches up, tugs Liam’s hand down and curls her fingers into his. “You smell like Daddy, so you’re pack.”

Liam throws Brett a confused look, and Brett knows it’s confusing. He knows that Liam has no idea what Gracie means, that he probably can’t even smell it. And Brett doesn’t know why Gracie _can_ smell it. He licks his lips, glances around. “Where’s Hayden?” Because Liam and Hayden have been married for six years now, starting their life together while they were still in college, so he knows exactly who _Mommy_ has to be.

Liam scrubs a hand through the hair at the back of his head. “We had enough miles for an upgrade to first class, and I told her to take it. She’s due in two months, and she’s… not comfortable.” Brett can taste the way Liam’s emotions flicker when he carefully chooses his words, and Brett just has to smirk.

“She’s going to wake up and hear you,” Brett says, and Liam glares.

The speakers buzz briefly, crackling before the captain comes on to say that they are about to being the approach into San Francisco. He points out the sights out of the windows, and Brett finds himself with an armful of Gracie, leaning over so she can see the ground far below as the plane tilts, turning to find the correct angle of descent.

Liam takes her back after that, hurrying them both back to their seats, and Brett sinks into his own and fastens the seatbelt. The woman in the window seat is awake now, and she glances over at him as he grips the armrest tight enough to make it creak. Brett might be a werewolf and can survive most things, but he will always hate takeoffs and landing. Nothing about hurtling at the ground is natural, and it never will be.

Fear takes up his mind, lets him focus on something other than the fresh scent of Liam that lingers on his skin and in the air around him. There are so many other scents in the air—other fears, excitement, worries—that it should be enough to drown out the scent of one person.

Except that it’s _Liam_.

The one person that Brett has never been able to completely forget.

As soon as the plane is on the ground, several passengers are on their feet, wavering slightly as it taxis to the gate. They pull down luggage and create a barrier in the aisle, hiding Brett from Liam. He closes his eyes, uses the time to try to center himself, to put on a mask because he hadn’t planned on seeing Liam and Hayden this trip. He’d planned on going straight to Satomi’s place and avoiding the McCall pack altogether.

Obviously fate had a different idea.

He pulls out his phone and takes it off airplane mode. Three texts arrive from Lori in quick succession—they’ve been invited to the McCall gathering on Christmas Eve.

Fate, again, or someone interfering who shouldn’t be.

He stands slowly as the plane is settled in the gate, exiting the row long enough to let the woman out of her spot by the window. He pulls down his small bag, pulls up the handle so he can tug it along behind him as he finally exits the plane and slowly walks down the jetway.

Brett doesn’t look for Liam, doesn’t try to catch his scent.

He is absolutely unprepared for the small body that catches him, arms wrapped around his leg, making him stop before he stumbles and takes them both to the ground.

Gracie grins up at him. “Hello again, Mr. Brett. Daddy says you’re probably going to Beacon Hills. We can give you a ride.”

“I’m all set.” His hand drops down, touches her hair, and now he can see Hayden’s influence in her looks. The brown eyes, the shape of her face.

“It’s no trouble.” And Hayden is there, bringing with her the scent of love and Liam and family and it hits Brett like a punch to the gut. He smiles to mask it, pulling her into a hug and letting her welcome him back to California.

Hayden sets him back, puts her hands on her hips. “I just slept for several hours, so I’m fresh and ready to drive. Our car is in the parking garage, and there’s no point in you renting one just to exhaust yourself getting to Beacon Hills. We can drop you off with Satomi. Besides, Gracie seems to like you.”

Gracie rolls her eyes, hands on her hips and looking like a miniature of her mother. “I _told_ you, he’s _pack_.”

Hayden meets Brett’s gaze, her head cocked, expression curious. “Oh, I see.”

Liam lopes down the jetway from the plane, brandishing a stuffed bunny. “Look who I found for you.”

Gracie races to meet him, cradling the stuffed animal in her arms. Liam takes one of her hands, then catches up with them, his free hand briefly touching Brett’s arm before he slips an arm around Hayden’s back. “We have some checked luggage, then we can get on the road.”

“I’m just glad to be home,” Hayden says.

Brett wishes he could say the same. Right this moment, there is nowhere that he wants to be more than _right here_ , able to reach out, touch Liam if he wants. But he wants to be anywhere else, as well, because this isn’t his. It’s not his life, and living it feels impossible.

#

He ends up in the front seat next to Hayden, while Liam sits next to Gracie’s car seat in the back. Within moments they are asleep, before Hayden even manages to navigate from the airport roadways to the highway. She glances back at them periodically, finally turning the music up slightly when they’ve been on the road about twenty minutes. She twists a dial, sending the sound to the back of the SUV, leaving it easy to hear up front.

“I don’t want to wake them,” she says, and Brett nods.

Hayden sits back from the wheel, her rounded belly in the way as she reaches around it. She drives like a trucker, shifting roughly and quickly and ramping up a swift cruising speed along the road. “So,” she says.

“So,” Brett echoes, and they both go silent.

Hayden glances at him, like she’s waiting for something.

“Lori told me that Satomi said that I can’t miss another Christmas,” he says slowly.

“It’s hard to be away from the pack,” Hayden agrees. “Everyone in Scott’s pack comes back for the holidays. Even Isaac and Cora make it these days, no matter where they’re traveling for work.” She’s silent a moment, navigating to pass a slower car before she speeds up again. “Liam’s been missing you.”

“He could Skype.”

“He says it’s not the same.”

It’s not. There’s no scent over Skype, no way to inhale emotions and read the other person. Brett doubts that Liam even knows what he’s missing, but he’s obviously noticed something. “I’ve missed him too.”

“I thought you two had put everything aside, that you were as good friends as he is with Mason,” Hayden chides gently. “But then you just walked away and stopped talking to him. Did you even know we’d had Grace?”

Brett shakes his head, turns to look out the window. “No idea,” he admits. “Hayden, there are reasons—”

“I know.” The words are quick enough that he’s sure she _does_ know. When he glances over, she nods slightly. “I talk to Lori,” she says. “And Gracie senses it too, doesn’t she? That’s why she thinks you’re pack.”

It’s a complicated knot, and Hayden is exactly the one person he doesn’t want to talk to about it. “Why don’t you just pull over and let me out,” Brett suggests. “You don’t want me here.”

“What makes you think that?” Hayden’s laugh is soft. “Brett, I’m not worried about you taking him away from me. If he was going to do that, he would’ve left me a long time ago. Do you know why he asked me to marry him?”

They were nineteen when that happened, and it was a quick, rushed wedding. “No idea,” Brett admits.

“Because Liam said that everyone he loved left him,” Hayden says quietly. “And he wanted me to promise to stay with him, forever and always. So I did, because I loved him then, and I love him now. He’s my heart, Brett, and the father of my children, and he’s miserable and he doesn’t even realize it. That’s why I started talking to Lori, to see if there was something I didn’t know, some kind of werewolf illness that I’d never heard of.”

Brett laughs dryly. “Heartsick.”

“Exactly.” Hayden’s hands are high on the steering wheel. She shifts so that one is lightly balanced at the center, then reaches across the divide between them, her hand falling to rest on his forearm. “He’s sick and doesn’t know why. You’re isolating yourself from your pack and your family on the other side of the country; I can’t think you feel any better.”

“I like Columbia. And my research.” Brett winces because he sounds like he’s making excuses.

“Transfer it. Or let yourself graduate finally, and get a job in a lab out here.” Hayden squeezes gently. “Reconnect with Liam.”

“I can’t.” Brett tries to shake her off, but somehow her fingers end up tangled with his, holding on tight. His breath feels rough in his chest. “Liam loves you, Hayden, and I’m not going to—I can’t come between that. That’s why I left in the first place.”

“He’s not happy _without_ you,” Hayden tells him. “So maybe it’s complicated. Then we figure it out. Just how long have you been hiding from Liam?”

“I knew when we were fourteen.” It’s almost embarrassing how it’s the best and worst memory of his life at the same time, remembering how he first caught that scent and immediately _knew_. They’d been friends forever, and they became enemies as soon as Brett picked a fight, unwilling to let hormones rule over his life. And by the time they became friends again, Hayden was there.

“So if I say I’m willing to try, willing to let you into our lives, what do _you_ say?” Hayden looks over at him, and Brett just points at the front windshield. She looks back at the road, but she squeezes his hand and he knows he’s still waiting for an answer.

“Are you proposing some kind of open marriage?” Brett doesn’t know what he thinks about that, how he feels about coming between them.

“I’m saying you should be a part of our _life_ ,” Hayden emphasizes. “Grace already thinks you’re pack, which means in her eyes, you’re family. Say the word and she’ll call you Uncle Brett instead of Mr. Brett. And I don’t know exactly what I’m suggesting, but maybe—I’m due in two months, and we could use some help. Maybe you could take some time off, come stay with us. You could help us with Gracie, you could help us get her new room painted and the nursery cleaned up. And you and Liam could figure things out.” Her tongue pokes out, teeth worry at her bottom lip. “We could all figure things out. I’m willing to try, Brett.”

She’s been thinking about this. He can taste resolve in the air, and nerves, and he realizes that this isn’t _new_. “You and Lori planned this,” he says slowly. “She told you which flight I’d be on. You flew to New York just to be on that flight going back.”

“We flew to New York to see Rockefeller Center and go skating outside and let Gracie see snow,” Hayden says, but there’s a smile in her eyes and happiness in her scent that means _yes_. Which means Lori knows, and Satomi knows, and this is… this is….

“Yes,” Brett says, and it feels like something’s locking into place, like the world has settled onto the proper axis. “I need to go back, but I can finish my thesis remotely, then fly back for my defense. I’ll be back before the baby’s born.”

“Best Christmas ever,” Gracie whispers, and Brett could swear that she’s been asleep the whole time, but when he glances back, she has one eye open that closes quickly.

Liam, at least, seems to still be asleep.

Hayden squeezes Brett’s fingers, and he lifts her hand to his mouth, presses his lips to her fingertips briefly before he lets her go. “You good?” she asks, and he exhales slowly, lets himself relax.

“I’m all right now,” he says, leaning back and stretching his long legs out. He can let Hayden drive, can trust that they’ll get where they’re going safely. “Wake me if you need me. I’m going to finally get some sleep.”

She pats his knee. “We’ll be here when you wake,” she says. “All of us. And Liam will be pleased to know you’re going to visit.”

“Stay,” Gracie whispers, and that’s the word that sticks in Brett’s head.

Because yeah, he thinks he’s going to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
